


Let Your Heart Be Light

by D1ona30



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: But also, Christmas, Established Relationship, Future Fic, Kid Fic, M/M, Past Fic, Time Travel, Time Travelers Wife AU, mentions of bullying, no superspeed, sorta Kid fic, time traveler barry allen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-05 05:52:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16804789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/D1ona30/pseuds/D1ona30
Summary: "He’s just pulled the milk out when the taste fills his mouth, copper, like he’s been sucking on pennies. He knows that taste, it’s flooded his mouth since he was a kid, Barry, his mind supplies. A thump and a yelp coming from the hallway confirms it.""He turns the corner and comes face to face with the youngest Barry he’s ever seen."





	Let Your Heart Be Light

**Author's Note:**

> So this is part of a much longer fic that I've been working on for over 6 months. I am stuck and am not sure if I can get past it. But I love this chapter of the fic and hated that it was just sitting in my docs. So I decided to just go ahead and post it for the holiday's. 
> 
> I'm not sure if anyone has read or seen the movie "The Time Traveler's Wife" but this is sort of an AU. Barry can time travel but he doesn't need super speed to do it. That's all that is taken from the book/movie. 
> 
> Anyway title from "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas," the Judy Garland version because it's beautiful and haunting which I feel this fic is.

The beard is itchy, but it’s white and Barry has been insisting he grow it out this year for Christmas. Len’s not really big on playing Santa but the idea of how the little one’s will react when they see him tonight all dressed up and delivering gifts will make the annoyance worth it.

He’s alone in the house right now, Barry having gone to pick up their son, Michael, his wife and the grandkids from the airport; their daughter, Nora, along with her wife and the twins will be arriving right before dinner, only having to drive an hour to get to the house he and Barry raised them in. Barry and the kids will be back soon and he’d been asked to make his special cocoa and use the Star Wars themed mini marshmallows that Barry bought at the store the other day.

He’s just pulled the milk out when the taste fills his mouth, copper, like he’s been sucking on pennies. He knows that taste, it’s flooded his mouth since he was a kid, _Barry_ , his mind supplies. A thump and a yelp coming from the hallway confirms it and he moves as quick as his 75 years allow. He turns the corner and comes face to face with the youngest Barry he’s ever seen. His his heart thumping erratically in his chest and he better not have a heart attack, the kid looks scared enough as it is. His wide green eyes are looking around the house in wonder. Barry went crazy this year with decorations, fresh pine garlands intertwined with white twinkle lights hang from every entryway, a full miniature Christmas scene takes up a side table; that Len had complained will get taken apart as soon as the grandkids arrive but Barry had waved him off. And the tree, the crowned jewel of their mini winter wonderland, is huge, almost a full seven feet, the lighted star on the top scrapes the ceiling, glass balls of various colors, lights, tinsel, and even all the decorations the kids had made over the years hanging from the full branches; and the gifts are already overflowing and those aren’t even the one’s “Santa” will be bringing.

The tiny Barry looks overwhelmed, his hair is windswept an errant yellow leaf stuck in the strands, faded red jacket dirty and jeans torn at the knees. He looks as if he’s been crying, tears still clinging to his eyelashes, snot and dirt crusting around his mouth, and his dirty knuckles turning white, gripping his backpack like it’s his only life line to reality. Barry has always refused to tell Len about the first time he Time Traveled, all that he’d give away was that he was five when it happened and he’s getting the feeling he’s been set up when the small child, looking just that age, turns his wide searching eyes to Len and yells, “SANTA!?!”

“The name’s Len,” he corrects on autopilot, then slaps a hand over his mouth when he realizes what he’s just done and fuck he’s gonna kill Barry.

“Santa’s name is Len?” the young Barry asks, wiping at his face, smearing snot, dirt and tears across his cheek and Len cringes.

“Nah, kid I ain’t Santa.”

“Am I dreaming?” he asks, eyeing Len cautiously, _good_ , Len thinks, he ought to be distrustful of strangers with the amount of time jumping he’ll be doing.

“Yes,” he goes with because what else is he gonna say? He can’t even understand the aspects of Barry’s time travel so how the heck is gonna explain it to a five year old. He nods his head, still searching the room seeming to accept that answer. The things kid Barry will believe, _honestly, it’s a bit scary_.

He waves his hand towards the kitchen, “Well come on, lets get your face cleaned up.”

Barry follows him without complaint, head swiveling around to take in his surroundings, mouth slightly open in awe. He clambers up on to one of the island stools when Len motions to it. He goes to remove his bag but Len stops him, “Keep that on, don’t want to lose it.” He’s still has a sock that one of the time traveling Barry’s left behind, it’s been over a two decades but he refuses to throw it out, keeps it folded in his bedside drawer. To others it’s just a sock, even to now Barry it’s just a sock but to Len it has just as much meaning as the silver band he wears on his left ring finger.

He turns on the kitchen tap, running a rag under the lukewarm water, handing it to the kid and instructing him to wipe his face, “So you want some hot chocolate, Barry?”

The boy gasps, eyes wide, “How do you know my name?”

Fuck, he’s done it again, maybe he’s going senile in his old age, he’ll bring this up with Lisa later, Barry will just worry, “It’s a dream remember, so why wouldn’t I?”

Barry eyes him skeptically, lips pursing, “I dunno, I still think you’re Santa.”

“Why would Santa lie about being Santa?” he moves away from the kid to make the cocoa, he didn’t answer but knowing Barry he’d drink the whole pot if allowed.

“Maybe to check on me, make sure I’m being good,” he answers, setting the rag down on the counter, Len frowns at it but it’s not important so he lets it go.

“Why do you think I’m Santa Claus?” Len asks, watching him over his shoulder as he stirs the milk.

The boy taps his chin, looking around the room again before answering, “Well you have a big white beard, your house has a ton of Christmas stuff and you have on a reindeer sweater. Oh! And you have cocoa! Mom says Santa loves cocoa, we make it every year for him.” He ends his little speech with a snap of his fingers and Len laughs.

Younger Barry is adorable and he’s already looking for clues and evidence even at this young age. Len has gone soft in his old age and it’s obvious that His Barry knew how this was gonna go and he can’t disappoint his husband so it’s easy to cave to the small child's imagination. Len wants him to have this joy while he can before life catches up with him, “You caught me, kid. It’s me, Santa.” He smiles, sliding the snowman mug across the island over to Barry and dumping a handful of marshmallows into his cup.

Barry giggles in delight, “Oh my gosh! I knew it! And you have Star Wars marshmallows! That’s my favorite movie, I’m gonna have to ask mom for these.”

“Oh that’s just a Santa specialty, they don’t have these anywhere but the north pole,” He doesn’t want the kid to be messing with his own reality trying to search for these, they won’t hit the market till Barry is in his twenties.

Barry sips his cocoa contentedly, watching the marshmallows melt into multi-color sludge, “So do you wanna know what I want for Christmas?”

Len shakes his head, “Nah, just send me a letter. What I really wanna know is why you were crying?’

“Oh,” the boy sags, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, “it’s embarrassing.”

“Hey,” Len says, reaching out to him, squeezing the boy’s shoulder, “You can tell me anything, always, you don’t ever have to be embarrassed. I’ll never judge you.” Even if the kid thinks he’s Santa, he still deserves to know and one day he’ll know the truth and the words will mean even more to him.

Barry nods, holding his cup with both hands, staring at it instead of looking at Len, “There’s this boy, Tony, he’s in my class. He picks on me, he pushed me today and tried to make me eat dirt and then I started crying, he called me a baby and everyone laughed.”

Len frowns, fists clenching at his side, he’s heard of this guy, he was a prick to Barry as an adult and it’s not a surprise he was a prick to Barry in school. Len wishes he’d had a chance to kick the guy’s ass at some point in their life together.

“Have you told anyone about him bullying you?” He goes with calm, he may want to beat the snot out of the little punk but he’s pretty sure that’s not the advice Barry would want him to give. And throughout the years his own kids, and Barry, have shown him he doesn’t always need to fight with his fists to protect the ones he loves.

Barry shakes his head, “No,” he sinks further into himself, shoulders hunching.

“Why not? I’m sure your teacher or Mom or Dad would help you with this.”

Barry shrugs, looking even more upset, “No, Tony is really good in class, I don’t think anyone would believe me. 

Len searches his memory for something that might help this Barry, some hint as to what he did for himself in the past, “Have you told Iris?”

Barry looks confused, “Iris? West? The new girl? No why?”

Len can work with this, “Listen, I’m Santa, so I know things. Go talk to Iris, she’s very nice and her Dad is a cop. She’ll help you, okay?” He remembers this conversation with Barry years ago, how Iris helped give him the courage to stand up for himself and talk to his parents about his school bully, it’s something that cemented their friendship. A friendship that lasted for years, leading to Iris being Barry’s best woman on their wedding day and GodMother to their children.

Barry doesn’t look convinced but nods his head, “Okay Santa, if you say so.”

“I do, trust me, it’ll all be okay.”

When Barry finishes his drink they move to the living room and Len pulls out their old copy of “ **The Night Before Christmas** ,” figuring he will just keep going with the whole Santa bit. Len settles himself down in the faded red armchair next to the fireplace. He pats his lap and kid Barry hops up, moving his bag to rest on his little knees, snuggling back against Len’s chest so that he can open the book and read it to the little boy. Len rests his cheek on Barry’s head, the crisp woodsy smell that clings to his hair reminds him so much of when his own son Michael was a child and Len feels like he’s time traveling himself. It’s so strange to be reading a book to this Barry; many years in his future they will be married, they”ll have a house and kids and grandkids but right now, he’s just a small boy, sitting in Santa’s lap and it makes Len’s heart ache.

He takes his time reading the story, drawing out the words and asking Barry to find the little grey mouse that is in each illustration, he makes it to the last two pages and then the young boy is gone, sucking in the surrounding air and making the pages flutter. Len sighs, closing the book and finally allows his unshed tears to fall.

Barry finds him like that, quietly crying in front of the Christmas tree, he comes in alone which surprises Len who hastily wipes his face, “Where’s Michael and the kids?”

Barry has moved across the room, crouching down in front of him, green eyes worriedly looking at his husband, “I told them to give us a minute. They’re letting the kids run around, said it’ll be good to let them stretch their legs. Was I, _he_ , here today?”

Len nods, eyes moving over Barry, taking in all the signs of his age, the grey by his temples, the wrinkles that have been slowly forming around his eyes, laugh lines deep in his face, it helps connect him to the here and now. He wraps his arms around Barry’s shoulders, pulling him into an embrace, “How did you know?” he asks in to the cotton of Barry’s blue sweater.

He sighs kissing the top of Len’s cheek, just above the line of his beard, pulling away, “To be honest I knew it was coming since the summer,” Len doesn’t have to ask, his eye do it for him, “I jumped back, way back. I saw you and you were so little and I wouldn’t have even known it was you except you were with your mom.”

Len gasps, grabbing Barry by the shoulders and shaking him, “You met her?! Why didn’t you tell me?” He feels a sense of betrayal, that it’s been half a year and this is the first he’s heard of it.

“How could I?” Barry defends, “I knew what seeing you like that meant and I didn’t want you to know how...how close we were…” he trails off, shadow coming over his eyes as he looks at Len, he quickly shakes it off, getting back on track, “And then I thought maybe we still had some time but this morning when I saw how your beard had grown out and this damn sweater,” he bunches it in his fist, tugging, “and I knew.” He pulls Len down to rest their foreheads together, sighing.

“How long? Do you think?” Len asks.

Barry shrugs his shoulders, “I dunno, maybe spring, maybe years from now? Can’t really predict our deaths, sorry.”

It’s morbid but they both laugh anyway.

“Are you sure though? Are you sure that’s the first time you jumped?’

Barry leans back with a sigh, “Not one hundred percent but I can’t remember a time before then and my Dad always sore that I never disappeared when I was a baby. But, he did admit that my Mom took care of me the most during the day and there was always night time but I doubt my Mom would have kept something like to herself.”

Len hums, unsure about Barry’s mom and her secrets, no one is perfect, but he doesn’t want to push it, not accuse Barry’s mother of misplacing her infant and not telling her husband, so he lets it drop, “Okay, well lets just make the most of the holiday.”

Barry nods, smiling brightly and just like that the tension drops, “I’ll go get our grandbabies and get the party started.” He’s so excited for them all to be here it’s infectious and Len is helpless to it, smiling back at him.

Barry gets up to leave but Len remembers something from years ago and grabs Barry’s wrists, “I just wanted to thank you.”

Barry cocks his head to the side, “For?”

“For choosing me, for our family, our kids, our grandkids, for _everything_ ,“ he tacks on meaningfully, standing up and pulling Barry to him, “for this life and the lives to come.” He yanks on Barry’s wrist, kissing him with all the love that has grown and flourished between throughout the years together.

When they part, a pink flush has taken over Barry’s cheeks, he doesn’t say ‘you’re welcome,” he’s never wanted thanks. A part of him still twisted up over his abilities and how it fucked with their lives from the moment he was born. “I love you forever and always,” is what he does say, kissing Len on the corner of his mouth. He slips out of Len’s grip to twine their fingers together and tugs him toward the door, smiling mischievously over his shoulder, “Do you wanna build a snowman?”

Len scowls but allows himself to be pulled toward the door.


End file.
